The Wedding Of The Century
by ozhawk
Summary: Tidying up my hard drive today, I came across this almost-finished fic, and decided to polish it up and share it with you. There are 6 chapters and I'll be posting one per day. It's a Mystery Romance wedding fic where one of the partners isn't identified, and I invite you all to guess who it is in the comments.
1. The Bridal Party

**The Wedding Of The Century**

**Author's Note: Tidying up my hard drive today, I came across this almost-finished fic, and decided to polish it up and share it with you. There are 6 chapters and I'll be posting one per day. It's a Mystery Romance fic where one of the partners isn't identified, and I invite you all to guess who it is in the comments.**

**This is NOT set in the same universe as any of my other stories, BTW, so don't think you can cheat!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own none of these characters and do not seek to make a profit from this work. Nor do I own responsibility for damage to sensitive electronic equipment when you figure out exactly what is going on in this fic. So put down that coffee before you snort it onto your keyboard…**

**Chapter 1 – The Bridal Party**

"You look beautiful!" Maria complimented Pepper. "It'll be your turn next!"

"So do you!" Pepper squealed back. "And yeah – I can't wait!"

"Ugh," Natasha muttered, interrupting all the joy as she stabbed a last hairpin into her hair to restrain her curls.

"Oh, Natasha," Maria sighed sentimentally then. "That updo sure does suit your curly hair! But wait a minute, that's not the headband you were supposed to wear…"

"Maria," Natasha crossed her arms. "I will live with the pink dress. But if you think for _one second_ I am putting pink right up against my hair, you've been in Bruce's lab sniffing test tubes again."

Maria sighed, took Natasha's wrists gently and uncrossed her arms. "All right, I've long since given up on trying to make _you_ do things by the book."

Natasha smiled at the woman she'd long since come to look on as her closest female friend. Maria looked beautiful, her dark hair released from its usual tight knot and curled into soft waves about her face. She wore minimal makeup – her lovely porcelain skin didn't need it – and her blue eyes glowed with happiness. "You look _amazing_," Natasha said sincerely.

"Doesn't she?" Pepper wore an identical dress to Natasha's, but she carried off the flared pink gown, seamed stockings and skyscraper heels with a grace and aplomb the Russian didn't think she could ever match. Pepper stepped close to Maria now and gently nestled a tiara of tiny crystals and pearls into her dark hair. "There, the finishing touch."

"No veil?" Natasha asked curiously. "I thought they were traditional?"

"I'm not hiding anything," Maria said, glancing at herself in the mirror. "Least of all from _him_."

"I can see how that might be symbolically awkward!" Pepper laughed, checking Maria's dress one last time. The slender column of pure, unadorned ivory silk set off Maria's slim figure to perfection. A pair of pearl earrings that had belonged to Maria's mother studded her ears, and a diamond and pearl choker that was a gift from her fiancé graced her long, slender neck. She looked youthful, lovely and very fragile, somewhat like a virgin sacrifice to the man who awaited her at the altar.

Natasha and Pepper exchanged glances, and eventually it was Natasha who spoke. "You're sure about this, Maria?"

She laughed. "More than sure, Tasha, thank you very much. I know you've known him for a while now, but you truly don't know him like I do. When I thought we'd lost him – well, I guess that brought me to my senses. And it seemed almost dying made him realise a few things about me as well."

Natasha said nothing, but Pepper reached out and took Maria's hand. "Well, you _are_ the one who knows him best. And obviously you've had a good effect on him, he's voluntarily wearing a colour other than black!"

"It might not be _entirely_ voluntary," Maria said demurely as the other two women led her towards the door leading into the wedding chapel, and as a consequence all three of them were giggling when the door opened and the music began to play.

**Who do you think Maria should marry? Guesses in the comments box…**


	2. The Groomsmen

**Chapter Two – The Groomsmen**

"I feel like a fucking penguin." Clint tugged at his long, dark grey tailcoat. There was no doubt he looked good in it, the cut emphasizing his broad shoulders and narrow hips. All of the men looked good in their tailcoats actually, good enough that there had already been one minor crash and several near-misses from women driving past the chapel taking their eyes off the road to gape.

"You'll waddle like one after I cut you off at the knees, Barton!" Sam Wilson snapped as Clint accidentally elbowed him in the ribs.

"This is a stupid suit. It doesn't _do_ anything."

"Oh, shut up, Stark. The whole reason you weren't allowed to try it on before today was precisely so that you _couldn't_ start tinkering and modifying it. Banner, stop pulling at your tie. Rogers, stop looking perfect." Fury glowered at them all impartially.

"Sir?" Steve looked puzzled.

"You're making me feel inadequate."

"_You_, sir? You came back from the dead!"

"So did you, Rogers. And you, Stark. _And_ you, and you two!" Fury jabbed an irritated finger at Coulson, Rumlow and Barnes.

"It seems to be becoming a habit around here," Bucky noted dryly, pulling a grey leather glove on to cover his metal hand. Brock Rumlow, standing just behind Bucky, snorted with laughter and covered his mouth with his hand, pretending to cough as Fury glared at him.

"Hopefully it's not catching, or at least the actually getting-killed part anyway," Clint muttered under his breath to Sam Wilson, who grinned and then nudged him in the ribs to silence him.

"All ready? I swear it's like herding cats," Fury grumbled, then gestured at the chapel door. "Come on, then, we're going to be late. Where the _fuck_ is Thor?"

"With all due respect, Sir, isn't this the best man's job?" Steve said politely.

"Well if he would just _do_ his job, that would be nice! _Where_ is Thor?"

"I am here, Mister Angry!" Thor boomed, dropping down out of the sky and plonking Mjölnir down beside the door, brushing his suit off with his fingers and making even Captain America look ordinary in comparison with his golden godliness. "I apologise for my tardiness! I have just concluded a successful _bildsnipe_ hunt with the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif!"

"They aren't invited, are they?" Bruce whispered to Phil. "Tell me they aren't invited. Sif sets the Other Guy off something terrible…"

"They're not invited," Coulson said calmingly, "don't worry." He reached forward to open the chapel door. "Everything's under control." Bruce wasn't sure, though, if Phil wasn't trying to calm _himself_ down as much as all of the others.

**So who do you think is the lucky groom? Guesses in the comments box… there's a cast of ten to choose from, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Thor, Fury, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Brock Rumlow, Bruce Banner and Phil Coulson. **

**Thank you very much to everyone who's made guesses so far – they ranged from as far out of left field as Victor Von Doom, to the correct answer – which I won't be revealing just yet!**


	3. Inside The Chapel

**Chapter 3 – Inside The Chapel**

The men walked up the aisle together, smiling and nodding to friends and guests. Thor paused for a moment to pluck Jane Foster out of her seat and give her a thorough kiss before putting her down again and striding off to join the others. Giggles at Jane's flustered attempts to smooth her hair and cool her flushed cheeks filled the chapel for a few minutes, until the door at the rear finally opened and the two bridesmaids stepped into the room.

"Holy smackeroni," Tony breathed, "I never thought Pepper could wear pink with her hair, but _damn_, she looks good." He eyed his fiancée's lithe, slender form lasciviously. The full, knee-length skirt swirled around her lovely legs, her strawberry-blonde hair curled and twisted up into an elaborate sideways roll from which a few ringlets dangled to graze her bare shoulders, shown off to perfection by the boat-shaped bodice neckline of the pale pink dress.

Behind Tony, Steve had actually stopped breathing. It took a prod in the ribs from Phil to start him up again, as he gazed in stunned admiration at the woman in the doorway, a smile curving her soft mouth.

Baby pink was the last colour he'd ever have expected Natasha to wear, Steve admitted to himself. It seemed so… _girly_, so unlike the tough, 'one-of-the-guys' persona the assassin usually showed to the world. And she looked like the girls he used to know, the dames he had dreamed of asking to dances, who had never looked at him. It was an old-fashioned dress, a dress one of those girls in the Forties might have worn for her best going-out gown, and her red hair was curled and coiled up atop her head just as they would have worn it back then.

"Hot _damn_, Rogers!" Sam let out a low whistle. "And you say you only kissed her the once? What were you _thinking_?"

"That she wouldn't be interested in me," Steve replied honestly, and on the other side of Sam, Clint let out a snort.

"You idiot, Rogers. She made the first move, kissing you. She's waiting for you to chase after _her_, now."

"I thought – I'd kind of thought she was with you at the time! That necklace…" Steve was stuttering with shock.

Clint turned to look at him, a grin on his face. "It's a tracking device. If she ever needs me, all she has to do is take it off for longer than ten minutes and it will activate so I can pinpoint her last location. Or if it gets taken off her, or torn off. I've got one too," he held up his hand to show a tiny spider-shaped clasp on a piece of black leather cord wrapped around his wrist. "All permanent field partners wear them. There's never been anything like that going on between me and Tash, Cap. She's all yours, believe me."

"Oh," Steve had never even considered that possibility! He stared at Natasha now as she walked down the aisle, her hips swaying in a way that sucked the very breath from his lungs. She caught his eye and smiled at him, and he smiled back appreciatively, letting his eyes roam thoroughly over her before ending up back at her face. Natasha smirked at him as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. Well – she probably did. Every man with a pulse would be thinking the same thing, he was sure of it!

Maria, knowing that Natasha would unintentionally steal all her thunder unless she was careful, waited until Pepper and Natasha had reached the front of the chapel and taken their places before stepping out from behind the door. She took a deep, steadying breath, and moved forward, her eyes on the man she loved waiting for her at the front of the room. He was gazing at her, a smile just beginning to curve his mouth, his face softening in the way that only she was normally privileged to see.

Maria took a step forward, then another. Oh, but he looked good in that grey tailcoat; she'd known he would! Fit and broad-shouldered, it suited him perfectly. She wanted to rip it off and explore every inch of that scarred, leanly muscled frame with her lips. Again. She cast her eyes down, a blush coming to her cheeks. _Later_, she told herself sternly. _You can do disgraceful things to that delicious man later._

Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. _Don't think about his mouth. Don't think about his hands, the way they feel on your body. Don't think about the way he looks at you, the way he gasps out your name in the dark…_

_Oh my God, I'm making it worse_. Maria was flushed from her bosom to the roots of her hair by the time she reached the altar, and Pepper eyed her with concern, wondering if she was going to faint. Should she try to fan her? Maria caught Pepper's gesture with the fan she held, and shook her head slightly.

Maria didn't dare look up. She could _feel_ him staring at her, mentally stripping away her wedding finery, burning her down to her skin and thinking of the things she liked him to do to her, of the heated touches they exchanged behind the locked door of her office. She tried to imagine a nice cold shower, but that only reminded her of the time she'd been trying to cool off in her tiny office washroom after yet another argument with him. He'd barged in on her when she was naked to the waist, shouting;

"And another thing, Agent Hill…" before going quite still, his gaze narrowing on her erect nipples. Still annoyed with him, she'd arched an eyebrow in the way she knew drove him absolutely mad, and a moment later was in his arms, his hard mouth coming down on hers, her breasts crushed against the solid muscles of his chest.

"You look _incredible_," the husky whisper in her ear made brought Maria back to the present and made her shiver with lust. She looked up at him and smiled.

**Did you get it yet?**

**Guesses in the comments box!**


	4. The Groom

**Chapter 4 - The Groom**

**So, clues I dropped for you so far… it's not Thor, he's with Jane. It's not Steve, he's crazy for Natasha. It's not Tony, he's engaged to Pepper. The groom has scars and muscles – which eliminates nobody – and he once came back from being apparently dead – which doesn't cut the field down much either! **

Surrounded by his friends, he watched her come towards him. She looked like an angel, ethereal and glowing in the sunlight coming in through the chapel's high windows. He felt, suddenly, like a filthy old man. What did he ever do to deserve the love of this beautiful, incredible woman? So young, so sweet – well, all right, the only thing sweet about his Maria was the way she tasted.

And just that fast his mind was off down its usual well-worn track, thinking about her lips, those soft rosebud lips that tasted like heaven and kissed like pure sin, tracing their way down his body until he cried out and pleaded for mercy. He shifted a little uncomfortably in place, feeling suddenly constricted in this damn suit she'd talked him into with only a flutter of long eyelashes over deep ocean-blue eyes.

_Damnable_ woman. He'd been putty in her hands ever since he bit the bullet and decided to tell her how he felt about her. Turns out she felt the same way, who could have imagined it? And while he'd been stuttering and apologising like some damn fool kid, she'd laughed softly, twined herself round him like a clinging vine and kissed him until he could barely remember his own name. He knew what people thought about them, knew that they said he was too old and bitter and scarred for her, that she was only using him. That she was an ice maiden, and he was blinded by his lust for her.

He didn't care. _He_ knew what she was. What _they_ were, together. They were the perfect team. In bed and out of it.

She was flushed. Why was she flushed? Was she all right? _Don't you dare faint before we've said these words, Maria, before I've claimed you as mine. _And then he realised that she wasn't looking at him, _couldn't_ look at him, and he _knew_ what was on her mind – she was thinking about what he'd told her he was going to do to her later.

He'd managed to escape the lunatics he called friends last night for a few minutes, long enough to dial her number and leave a message on her answering service, telling her that he didn't like to be apart from her for even one night any more. He'd got a bit carried away – bloody Thor and that hellish Asgardian mead, he was blaming that, definitely – and left what could only be described as a pornographic rant, telling her he'd heard her dress was virginal white and he was going to rip it off her with his bare hands and ravish her senseless.

Oh God. He must have sounded like a drunken barbarian. And yet, here she was, a maidenly blush on her pale cheeks – and lower, he couldn't help but notice – coming to stand beside him. She was trembling like a leaf in the breeze, he was suddenly concerned to see, and reached out to put a steadying hand under her elbow.

"You look _incredible_," he whispered reassuringly in her ear, and finally, _finally_ she turned those deep-ocean eyes up to him and smiled.

**Still not sure? Keep guessing in the comments…**


	5. The Ceremony

**Chapter 5 – The Ceremony**

"You look gorgeous too, darling." She put her hand into his and they both turned to face the minister.

"Dearly beloved," the minister began, "we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Maria Louise Hill and Nicholas Gabriel Fury…"

"_Gabriel_?" Clint began to snicker behind them. Maria tore her attention away from the minister long enough to shoot the archer a death glare over her shoulder.

Rumlow snorted with laughter too, "Hardly angelic!"

She spread the glare around, silently promising assignments in the deepest, darkest, most miserable hellhole she could find to the next person who laughed. Silence fell, though she could see them all smirking. She turned around and smiled sweetly at the minister.

"I'm sorry about the answering service message," Nick whispered in her ear during a pause in the ceremony.

"What message?" She glanced up at him. "Natasha took my phone last night and hasn't given it back yet."

"Oh." His skin was too dark to blush, but she could see he looked a bit embarrassed. "I – drunk dialled you. You should probably not listen to it. Just erase it."

She arched an eyebrow, telling him silently that she was most _definitely_ going to listen to it now he'd said that, and he coughed and looked away sheepishly.

Phil had the rings, of course – Nick would not have trusted anyone else to be his best man – and produced them at the appropriate time. The rest of the ceremony was a blur to Maria. All she really remembered was Nick putting her ring on her finger, the look in his dark eye burning into hers as he said the words that claimed her for his own. And all she could think about was getting him somewhere alone and having him put his hands on her, those strong dark hands which made her shiver with want every time they brushed over her skin. He put one of those hands at the small of her back to move her gently towards the register, and she leaned into him with a sigh of longing which he didn't miss.

"Are you _trying_ to drive me mad?" he hissed in her ear as they watched Phil sign his name neatly before passing the pen to Natasha.

Maria leaned back against his strong body, twisting her head so her lips almost touched his throat, and whispered huskily; "Is it working?"

"Fucking hell," he muttered, earning a shocked glare from the minister, which, in typical Nick Fury fashion, he returned with a nasty look of his own. And then he slid his hand downwards and squeezed hard on her ass. "I'm gonna make you pay for this later, you little madam."

"Oh, _good_," she murmured throatily, and laughed when she heard a low growl escape from his lips. Natasha caught her eye as she turned away from the register and grinned, and Maria knew Natasha had heard the growl. The assassin looked as though she was trying very hard not to laugh.

**Did you get it? Sorry to those of you who were disappointed… I have to admit I was highly entertained by your answers. Quite a number of you were convinced it was Coulson. Who I thought would have been ruled out early on by the 'colour other than black' comment, but there you go. And yes, I admit Rumlow was a total red herring, but so many of you bought it, I'm guessing mainly because of my well-known love for the asshole. **

**That said, well done to those of you who were sure it was Fury from the beginning. Very good ;) And yes, perhaps his internal monologue would have contained a few more 'motherfuckers' but then that would DEFINITELY have given the game away!**


	6. The After-Party

**Chapter 6 – The After-Party**

"My badass reputation is shot to hell, isn't it?" Nick Fury grumbled in his new wife's ear an hour later. Stark was throwing them a very fancy reception in his tower, and the champagne was flowing freely. Waiters circulated with trays loaded with expensive little delicacies, the party was in full swing, everyone having a roaring good time. And Fury was quite convinced the bastards were all laughing in their champagne glasses at him.

"Don't worry about it, darling, you've now got a reputation as a man who can melt ice maidens instead," Maria remarked.

"You're no ice maiden," he responded at once, putting his arm possessively around her tiny waist. "You're _volcanic_."

"Only for you," she answered quite sincerely, leaning her cheek against his shoulder and looking up at him. And once again, Nick Fury found himself unable to catch his breath, for the heat in those ocean-blue eyes had him burning with need for her. He glanced around, but no one was paying attention to them; they were all watching Stark – drunk already, what a surprise – standing at the bar demonstrating some new super-widget he'd built.

Quietly, he pulled Maria away from the crowd and into the elevator. Down twenty levels, and they were on the floor where her office was situated, quiet and dark today of course.

"And what are we doing here?" Maria asked, one eyebrow lifted coyly as Nick almost dragged her into her office, slamming the door behind them.

"I'm going to make my wife scream my name," he muttered gruffly, pushed her back against the door and went to his knees. That lovely column dress was slit almost to the hip on one side, and he took full advantage, lifting her thigh over his shoulder and pushing the dress up past her hips. Oh dear Lord, she was wearing a garter belt and stockings underneath, with the most ridiculous little scrap of lace masquerading as panties, all of them in pure virginal white. But a virgin wouldn't smell of musk and summer lightning, wouldn't be soaking wet through the lace as he pressed his lips to her mound.

"Ohhh," Maria closed her eyes and leaned back against the door, pressing her hands against it. She twitched as he scraped lightly over her clit with his teeth. And then he quite obviously lost patience and ripped her delicate lacy panties off with a twist of his wrists. "_Nick_! Do you have any idea what those cost?"

"No, and I don't care. I'm keeping them as a trophy." He grinned up at her, a flash of white teeth in his dark face, tucking the torn lace into his jacket pocket.

"You're a very bad man," she murmured, and then let out a strangled cry as his tongue flickered against her.

"You love it when I'm bad," he laughed quietly against her, licking lightly again, his hands holding her hips firmly so she couldn't move. "Don't you, angel?" And then she brought one of her long-fingered, slender hands to his scalp, caressing the smooth skin, pressing his face against her.

"Shut up and lick me," Maria commanded, and Nick Fury, the man who took orders from _no one_, dived right in.

He was seated on her office chair with his bride in his lap, his cock buried deep inside her, when JARVIS chimed discreetly.

"Pardon the interruption, sir, madam, but your guests are wondering where you might be?"

"Translation; Stark's being a nosy ass," Fury grunted.

"I'm sure they can guess that we sneaked out to fuck," Maria panted, accenting the final word with a twist of her hips that made her new husband cry out her name. "Tell Stark thanks for the party."

"I will pass along your expression of gratitude, Mrs Fury," JARVIS said primly, and made the audible clicking sound he used to notify Tower residents he was no longer 'present' in a conversation.

"I really like the sound of that, _Mrs_ Fury." Nick groaned as Maria's nails sank into his shoulders. His hands tightened on her hips, helping her to lift up and down astride him. "Oh, _fuck_, Maria…"

"Certainly," she purred, using strong thigh muscles to move faster, smiling as his breathing became hoarse gasps. And then he was lifting her, laying her down on her back on the desk, bending over her intently. She tightened her legs around his waist, moaned as his fingers slipped between them, tapping on her clit. "Oh, Nick. Ahhhh. Yesss…"

"Yes!" he groaned back as her eyes rolled back in her head, as sleek wet muscles began to contract around him. "Love you so much," Nick gasped it into her neck as her body sucked him dry. "So fucking much, Maria!"

Unable to do more than draw in deep breaths, trying to get some air back into her lungs, Maria caressed his head and shoulders, holding him close as he shuddered above her. "Mine," she murmured possessively at last, and he chuckled quietly against her throat.

"Of course. Your devoted servant, Mrs Fury."

Stark appeared to have given up on trying to lure them back to the party, so they weren't interrupted as they headed back to Maria's apartment. Once there, Maria visited the bathroom first. Returning to her bedroom, she smiled as she saw her phone on the bedside table. Natasha had obviously returned it at some point.

Glancing at the bathroom door and grinning as she heard the shower running, Maria picked up the phone. She was definitely interested in hearing that message Nick had left for her. Apparently he'd been quite drunk the night before after Thor spiked his drink with Asgardian mead. Nick Fury drunk was something she couldn't quite imagine.

Nick Fury drunk was apparently _hilarious_. She looked up at him, blue eyes wide, as he came out of the bathroom. He stopped dead as he saw the phone to her ear and the smirk on her soft pink lips.

"Oh, no."

"_Ravish me like a virgin sacrifice_?" Maria couldn't help but start to giggle.

"Fuck, I knew there was something I forgot to do!" He'd planned to convince Romanoff to hack Maria's phone and delete the message. (Not Stark. Motherfucking Stark would probably have broadcast his idiotic drunken pornographic ramblings at the goddamn party). "I told you not to listen to it," Fury said grumpily, looking at his new wife, who was now rolling on the bed laughing. He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for the phone and deleting the message. No way did he want to risk _that_ getting into the wrong hands.

"Oh, I wanted to keep that!" Maria tried to grab the phone, but he held it firmly away from her and finished the deletion.

"No way. And I'm never drinking anything Thor hands me ever again. I thought it was supposed to be Loki who was fond of practical jokes."

Giggling, she crawled into his lap. "I could have told you, if you'd asked me. I've only been working with them for the last year, after all."

"Sarcastic little madam," his hands slid up her thighs, pushing up the black silk nightgown she'd donned after her shower. "Mm. I like this on you."

"Really?" she arched her eyebrows. "I'd have thought it wouldn't be _virginal_ enough for you."

"I am never going to fucking live that down, am I?" he groaned.

Maria smirked, sliding her hands over his broad shoulders. "Nope. But never mind, darling. Let me remind you just why you chose me instead of some blushing innocent." She pushed at his chest, and Nick Fury very willingly fell back onto the bed, his mouth curving into a smile as his beautiful, not-at-all-innocent bride's hot mouth began kissing down his chest.

**The End**

**With thanks to AlekWalker, whose comments on the drunk dialling helped me find a good way to end this fic – and for CeliaEquus, hope that was as smutty as you were hoping for!**

**Thank you to everyone who read along, made guesses and was entertained by this little mystery fic! Who knows, I might write another one day… in the meantime I am working on **_**For Want Of A Nail **_**with Lady Winterlight, and considering a re-write of both **_**You Need To Trust Me**_** and **_**Stockholm Syndrome**_** with original characters in order to publish. Plus innumerable other projects… I watched Age of Ultron two days ago and am going for a second viewing today, and the plot bunnies are breeding out of control. Fear not, though, I won't be publishing anything spoiler-ish until after the movie has released in all countries!**


End file.
